


R65 (Daylight Blue)

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Fenris (Dragon Age), Trans Hawke (Dragon Age), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 05:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: The Champion of Kirkwall: The Musical is about to take Skyhold and the rest of Ferelden by storm and Fenris is in the thick of production. He may be just a lowly electrician, but that doesn't mean he isn't privy to the trials and tribulations the cast and crew go through during tech week - or, as those in the industry call it, hell week.Between the stress of putting together the next big hit, his increasingly bad nightmares, and the sense that his past is haunting him, can Fenris make it through the week? And can he finally get James Hawke's phone number?Not if the universe has anything to say about it.





	R65 (Daylight Blue)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a reference is Rosco lighting gel, which is basically a thin plastic sheet that gets put in the barrel of certain lighting instruments to change the color. 
> 
> Series title is a reference to the comic/movie of the same name, though I promise this will be mildly less depressing.

_Is ‘The Champion’ the Next Big Hit?_

_By Cassandra Pentaghast_

_The Champion of Kirkwall: The Musical_ is about to take Skyhold and the rest of Ferelden by storm and _Entertainment Seekers_ has your exclusive, early look at the production. 

Based on the book of the same name, Champion is a story about a young man who faces incredible odds saving his family from the Blight by moving to Kirkwall, the legendary city of chains. There, he encounters scores of enemies and a handful of allies as mage-templar relations grow more and more tense. He finds himself in a position of power, able to decide the fate of thousands and must manage the responsibility or risk losing the life he’s built. While the plot may seem trope and many wonder if there’s a reason to make a musical after the wildly popular movie adaptation, here at _Entertainment Seekers_ we foresee another victory for the franchise.

The original novel and the resulting screenplay were both written by Varric Tethras, and though his fantasy bestseller was a hit movie, a number of critics are skeptical about its transition into a musical. After Tethras’ self-proclaimed flop, _Swords and Shields_ , some believe that this musical is an attempt at a career revival. However the star power of James Hawke (playing the titular Champion Garrett), Dorian Pavus (playing angst-filled Ardyn), and Zevran Arainai (playing the elven love interest, Romulus) suggests how serious a production _Champion_ is to its creators.

Joining them are a number of familiar faces such as Isabela Rivera reprising her role from the film as the seductive pirate Iona, Carver Hawke, the brother to James Hawke in and out of character, and Orlesian powerhouse Vivienne de Fer as the mysterious Orsina, but there are also many breakout talents that we're sure will find success after this production.

 _Champion_ is playing at the Genitivi Theater and is just about to head into the final stage of rehearsals before previews. Currently you can enter a raffle to win a night out in downtown Skyhold with none other than James Hawke himself. Rumor has it that the man’s single, ladies! 

Book and lyrics by Varric Tethras (who also plays the musical’s narrator and sole dwarf character), music by Bianca Darvi, directed by Leliana Chaussure, and produced by Josephine Montilyet. Get tickets for _The Champion of Kirkwall: The Musical_ , playing Justinian Third to Firstfall Eighth, now!

#

"Angst-filled! Angst-filled! It's a travesty, I tell you. As if I am only good for looking morbid and sullen. Completely missing the emotional arc and turmoil I go through." Dorian's voice carried throughout the theater, all the way from the dressing rooms to the stage where Fenris was working. He wished he could have his headphones in, but safety regulations that said that was a bad idea. It definitely was, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to do it anyways. "And she doesn't even talk about how my character brings the entire conflict to a head!"

"Doesn’t your character commit an act of terrorism in the name of justice?" Zevran asked, his voice much less grating on Fenris' nerves. He was just more pleasant in general. 

Fenris was trying to finish focusing a few of the more tricky PARs — the lighting plot demanded that the entire first be filled to the brink with instruments which was making his job even harder. There just wasn't enough room to get the PAR to face the right way, but there was also nowhere to move it. Usually this sort of thing would be done by now, but the set design had gotten completed late so the Iron Bull and his crew hadn't been able to finish building until more recently. Fenris had been forced to wait and several lights had to be adjusted to compensate with how high the set had grown — which hadn't been accounted for in the original plot.

In short, it was day one into a seven day tech and Fenris already wanted to kill everyone and then himself. Currently the top of his shit list was Dorian Pavus, if just because the Vint was unfortunately just that: a Vint.

"Well actually — it’s much more complicated than that!" Dorian was pouting. Fenris couldn't see him but he would bet his entire contract on that.

"Has anyone seen Varric? Aren’t we supposed to start rehearsal soon?" That would be James Hawke, the other reason Fenris was considering murder.

That wasn't quite fair. That made it sound like James was just as bad as Dorian, which he wasn't. In fact, James was worse because he was so damn nice. He was generous with his time and money, making headlines for his charitable work with LGBTQ youth and promoting rights for refugees. And he had a sense of humor that made Fenris smile, even if the joke wasn't to him. Somehow that was the part that made Fenris avoid James. There were few people who made him enjoy their company but he wanted to get along with James, get to know the actor. Get to know the man behind the actor.

Fenris grit his teeth and tightened the Maker bolt on the PAR, thinking that if he tilted its neighboring Source Four a little to the left, that would work. Hopefully that wouldn't throw off the focus at all.

He heard the sound of footsteps on stage and his anxiety and frustration spiked. Actors on stage meant that if things were dropped by say, a careless electrician, they might hit someone important. That wouldn't happen because Fenris wasn't an idiot, but still. He wasn’t the only one up in the catwalks and even the best in the business made mistakes. 

"Where is Leliana? Has anyone seen her? Aren't we supposed to be rehearsing right now?" That was Carver Hawke, the less famous brother of James. Fenris admired his no bullshit attitude but thought that Carver was an asshole. If anyone asked, Fenris was pretty sure he wasn't acting when his character said he hated his brother. 

"Oh, Carver, relax! Besides, can't you see that they're still working up there?" James said, as if he hadn’t been asking the same thing. His voice almost caused Fenris to almost lose his grip on his wrench. He swallowed, suddenly aware that his pants had holes in the knees and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. "Hello up there! Any news on how much longer this will take?"

"James and Carver, get off the stage and go to the green room. We're going to begin warm ups soon," Leliana said from somewhere Fenris couldn't see. He definitely didn't watch James leave, his ridiculous T-shirt clinging to lean muscle and his brown hair pulled back into a short ponytail.

Yeah, Fenris definitely didn't let himself get distracted by that at all.

"Hey, Fenris, are you done? Sebastian wants to run through a few cues before rehearsal starts." Anders' voice was more than enough to bring Fenris' mood back down to its usual low. The blond was on the second catwalk, cleaning up a few cables since the spots would have to be up there and the operators needed space to work.

Privately, Fenris thought both Anders and Sebastian needed to calm down, that tech had barely even started, but he also knew he was going to be just as bad when tech was in full swing. Maker, tech had barely started and Fenris was already almost as anxious and stressed. 

"I am heading to the booth now," Fenris called back, not moving at all. He shifted a little and adjusted the Source Four as Anders made his way off the catwalks. Down below, the last few set pieces for the first act were being loaded in. Iron Bull and his crew were running around, though Fenris didn't see Krem anywhere.

Probably building some last minute addition, Fenris thought. The set designer, Solas, was supposed to be some brilliant designer but quite frankly he could suck Fenris' dick. If it weren't for the set going over budget and running behind on schedule, then Fenris wouldn't be fixing lights at the last possible moment. Also Fenris had listened to Krem complain for an hour about how difficult building everything was and Fenris was a little bit more sympathetic towards his friend than someone he barely knew.

"Actors, you're being called to the green room," Aveline said over the theater speaker. Fenris huffed and brushed some hair out of his eyes as he headed down to the booth. If the light needed to be moved again, he could make Anders do it.

In the booth, Sebastian and Anders were arguing over whether Rosco or Lee produced better color. Sandal, the strange but actually rather ingenious sound designer and mixer, didn't even notice as Fenris crossed the small room and stepped between the other two lighting techs.

"We are ready to begin whenever you would like," he said.

"Please tell Anders that Lee is the superior brand," Sebastian replied in lieu of a proper greeting.

"Fenris thinks that a design with more than three primary colors is too saturated — I don't give a Maker's flying ball sack what he thinks," Anders huffed. He crossed his arms and scowled.

Behind him, Aveline let out a long suffering sigh. As the stage manager, she tended to do that a lot.

"If you need to run lights, do it before the rehearsal begins please. We're already late enough." She wasn't wrong. Because everyone was so behind, there was more work going on now than there really should during tech. And they still had another twelve hours of this. 

Then again, that was how theater went. Everyone was behind and nothing was ready until three days into preview, at which point you learned that you had done half a dozen things wrong and needed to fix them before the actual show started. It was utter madness and Fenris wouldn't do anything else with his life.

"Aye," Sebastian said, settling down in the light board op's chair. 

While usually the designer wouldn't also run the show, Sebastian was both particularly talented and also had a tendency to make such complicated cues that board ops got confused. Fenris could be a board op, but on this occasion he and Anders were just electricians for the show. They were there to look pretty and light things. 

At least, Fenris looked pretty. Anders probably needed a shower. 

"Okay everyone, going dark," Sebastian announced. Aveline echoed the call into her headset, which boomed through the entire theater. 

"Thank you dark!" Everyone more or less shouted back as the entire theater was plunged into pitch black.

Sebastian, only able to see from the dim light in the booth, pressed a few keys on the board and suddenly the stage came alight. It took Fenris a moment, but these were the cues for _Darktown’s Spirit Abomination and I_ , a witty look at one of the mage characters, Ardyn. The song was funny but Ardyn was Fenris' least favorite character so he pulled out his phone and scrolled through Facebook. 

James Hawke had posted a picture on his personal account — the man had added everyone on the crew — and Fenris almost choked on air when he realized what it was.

 _Even the lighting guys are beautiful_ , the caption read. It was a picture of Fenris, though all you could see was his back and the mess of white that he called his hair. The picture was taken from an awkward angle and there were a number of lights in the way, but it was definitely Fenris... Specifically his back.

Okay it was basically a picture of his hair and his ass — everything else was hidden by lights.

 _Is it weird if I like this?_ Fenris wondered as he did just that. The picture wasn't bad but he definitely had better jeans to show off his ass if James was interested — _that is not a professional train of thought,_ he told himself.

"Who moved that light?" Sebastian asked, stopping the cues suddenly. He pointed to the very obvious out of place circle of red that was once on the floor, but now caught half the wall in its beam.

Fenris mentally groaned. “Anders, do you know anything about that?” He asked. 

“No,” Anders replied, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“You should go fix it,” Fenris suggested.

“What? But it wasn’t my fault!”

“I don’t care who’s fault it is,” Aveline cut in, glaring daggers at them both. “We need to begin the run soon, so one of you go up there and fix it.” 

“You can reach that position easier,” Fenris pointed out. It wasn’t a lie, necessarily. For someone whose job required him to reach out at awkward lengths and distances from high places, he really was inconveniently short. 

Anders, who was pushing six feet, did not have that problem. Still, he grumbled as he grabbed his wrench and headed back up to the catwalks. 

Sebastian gave Fenris a look. “That light is on the first, isn’t it?”

Fenris nodded. 

“You moved it, didn’t you?” Sebastian asked. 

Fenris nodded. Sebastian sighed. 

“Aveline, are we ready to get started?” Leliana’s voice came to life through the headset, Fenris just able to catch what she was saying since he was right next to Sebastian. He always kept it around his neck and just pushed the volume high, rather than actually wearing it properly. “Also, can we get some work lights back here? These aren’t enough, my actors keep stubbing their toes on things.” 

_Well they should know better,_ Fenris thought even as he went to look around in a drawer for more work lights. He asked Sebastian how many they needed and he just shrugged before asking Leliana. 

“Three? Four?” Leliana didn’t sound very certain. There was a muffled conversation that Fenris couldn’t make out. “Four. Stage left says they’re having trouble.” 

“Fenris will be down there,” Sebastian said. “Once we are done with this, we can begin rehearsal,” he added. 

“Good,” Leliana replied. 

Fenris just adjusted the lamps in his arms, grabbed a roll of gaff tape, and made sure to get an extension cord before he left. There were never outlets where you needed them to be, that much he knew. 

Walking down into the theater in the dark was not the hardest thing to do, both because he was an elf and because he sometimes felt like he spent all his time in dark theaters anyway. The Genitivi Theater had just over eight hundred seats total and a typical proscenium stage, so at least it wasn’t like the bloody Calenhad Theater which had a balcony of six hundred seats and a ground floor of over a thousand. 

That was a nightmare to traverse, but usually there would be more than two electricians working there. 

It was hard for Fenris to decide if he’d rather have more possibly annoying and incompetent people to work with or have to work with Anders. Really, a difficult choice. Depended on his mood, in all honesty. 

When he got to the stage, he quickly headed backstage where, indeed, it was rather dark. Fenris unclipped the small flashlight he had on his belt and clicked it on. He was immediately presented with far too much cleavage. 

“Oh, Fenris, you’ve come to shed a little light on us miserable actors?” Isabela asked, grinning and crossing her arms. The two of them had worked on projects before and, despite their different personalities, actually got along quite well. They had more in common than most thought and Fenris would consider Isabela one of his closest friends… even if he wanted to strangle her sometimes. “Have you met Zevran yet?” She motioned to the elf in question, a lithe blond who was just a little taller than Fenris. 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Isabela has mentioned you before. It is a shame we have not worked together yet.” Zevran gave him a small bow and Fenris squinted, trying to tell if he was being mocked. Isabela wasn’t grinning anymore than usual, though, so he assumed he wasn’t. He nodded, unsure of what else to do.

“You might want to chat,” Fenris told Isabela, “but some of us have to work.” He held up one of the lamps, as if it weren’t obvious. It was sort of dark backstage, he guessed, but not to the point of needing _four_ more lights. 

Isabela sighed and tossed a bit of hair over one shoulder. “Please, we both know half of today will be nothing but standing around anyway.” She brightened as Fenris set the lamps down and began setting one up, struggling to reach the top of a shelf where he wanted to clip one onto. “Oh, James! Can you come here? We need your help,” Isabela said. 

Fenris was fortunate that he had fast reflexes, because he lost his grip on the lamp and almost dropped it. He spun around to tell Isabela off but froze, his words caught in his throat as the man he had been ogling since he read an article talking about his budding career, appeared out of nowhere like the Spirit from _Spirit of the Aravel._

Okay, maybe Fenris had been working on too many musicals recently. 

This was not the first time he and James had been face to face, but it was certainly the first time Fenris had really felt scrutinized by the man. James had a nice smile and his brown eyes were warm as he grinned a little wider. It was like he was actually glad to see Fenris and for a moment, Fenris though he was actually going to smile back. 

He then spotted Isabela and Zevran giving him looks and any desire to smile was squashed and replaced with a scowl. 

“What, uh, what do you need help with?” James asked. His hair was up in a ponytail. Fenris hoped that meant that he wouldn’t be cutting it for the role. Garrett Sparrow was supposed to have a beard, though, and James definitely did not. Maybe he could get away with longer hair.

That wasn’t to say Fenris had _read_ the book or sought out the countless fanarts, fanfics, or whatnot that existed for the popular series. It was just impossible to _not_ see any of the stuff. 

“Fenris needs help putting the lamp up. He’s too short and so are we,” Isabela said. It was a bald-faced lie. If Fenris got on his toes, he could certainly do this alone and neither Isabela nor Zevran were _that_ short. But James seemed to accept it, taking the lamp from Fenris and clipping it on where Fenris pointed. 

“Thank you,” Fenris mumbled, quickly taping the cord down and plugging it in. He was temporarily blinded by the surge of blue light, elves being more sensitive to light than humans, and blinked to get rid of the spots dancing in front of him.

“Whoa, careful,” James said as Fenris stumbled back. A warm hand rest against him to steady him and Fenris resisted the urge to linger. Instead he huffed and picked the other lamps up.

“Where else do you need these?” He asked, resolutely not looking at anyone except for Isabela. He tried to convey, with his eyes alone, that he was going to kill her after this. It was entirely his fault for letting his secret slip even after knowing Isabela was signed onto the musical. Now she, as per usual, was trying to be a good friend by interfering with his life. 

“Oh, I'll show you!” James took off, not waiting for Fenris to follow. Of course, Fenris had no choice, but he was sure to flip Isabella off as he left her presence. 

It only took about five more minutes to set the other lamps up, by which backstage was practically glowing blue with light. Fenris mentally cursed Isabela the whole time, though he did actually need help at one point where the lamp needed to be taped down in order to avoid falling. He did have to use the extension cord too, but fortunately didn’t have to go grab a second one. 

“There you go!” James aimed that smile at Fenris again and it made his stomach do funny things. “I, uh, thanks.” For someone who was a national — and soon to be international, with the musical — star, he seemed awfully nervous around an electrician. Fenris decided that it was probably just because he felt embarrassed at having been caught taking photos earlier. 

“I do not care about the photos,” he told James flatley. 

“Oh, those—” James made a strange noise in his throat, but before he could reply Leliana shouted in the distance, asking what was taking so long. 

“I should go.” Fenris didn’t move. James scratched the back of his head, lost for words. Actors. Fenris was glad he didn’t have to deal with them nearly as much as he used to, not missing that past in the slightest.

Well. Mostly.

“Break a leg.” Fenris all but ran away from James, heading back to the booth and sitting down next to Sebastian without even looking at Anders or saying anything antagonistic towards him. A miracle, really. Sebastian seemed like he wanted to ask about it, but then Aveline was talking over the headset and Leliana was shouting at the actors to get into places. 

“We’ll start from act one, when Vincent meets Garrett.” There was a moment of silence then a muffled shout from backstage that Fenris couldn’t make out. He didn’t need the lights on to see Leliana facepalm. “Where on _Thedas_ is that dwarf?!” She shouted, standing and looking for the actor in question.

Fenris let out a groan and leaned back in his chair. This was going to be a long day. 

#

"Hey Fenris, a bunch of us are going out for drinks to celebrate day one. You want to join us?" Isabela asked, leaning against part of the set as Fenris tightened a few coils of cable. They had been done by Anders and, while they might have passed muster in college, Fenris liked to hold himself to a higher standard of work.

He shrugged, glancing at his watch. It was already seven pm — tech had run for most of the day and frankly, he was exhausted. He had no idea how the actors, who had been singing and dancing or yes, just standing for most of it, had the energy to go and do more socialization.

"James will be there," Isabela continued, picking at her flawless nails.

Fenris let out a sigh. Sometimes it was fun being friends with a quickly rising movie and theater star. Other times it made him want to rip his hair out. Right now, he was feeling a little bit of both. Damn Isabela and bottomless martini Monday's. How was a man supposed to keep a secret with those two things in his life?

"All right. Allow me a moment to grab my things," Fenris said. He ignored the fist pump Isabela gave the air in favor of tying off the coil and heading back to the booth. "Are these clothes acceptable?" He called back, not bothering to pretend look at Isabela. They would have to be — he was not taking the bus back to his apartment only to leave again. And he wasn’t covered in an unacceptable amount of dirt and dust.

When Isabela did not reply, Fenris turned around. Isabela was shamelessly taking a picture of herself and glanced up at Fenris and winked. "James and I are friends on Snapchat," she said. Fenris took a moment to make the connection and his ears went red. "You saw the picture he posted earlier, right? He is so into you."

"He took a picture of my... Assets. That does not make a man interested in me." Fenris huffed and kept walking, flipping Isabela off. She cackled with laughter and Aveline stuck her head out from behind the curtain.

"Why are you still here, Isabela? Go home already!"

"Fenris and I are about to go get drinks with the others. I'd invite you but I already know you hate fun," Isabela called back.

Fenris was saved the rest of the conversation by ducking into the booth. Sebastian was just saving a few more cues — he had been updating them frantically the whole day, Anders unhelpfully offering suggestions while Fenris pointed out actual problems. 

“Are you coming to drinks with us?” Fenris asked. He could use someone else who understood boundaries there — Isabela was great, but she tended to hyperfocus and accidentally leave Fenris on his own for a few hours. There was a reason he didn’t go clubbing with her as much as he once did. 

"I don't think so," Sebastian said with an apologetic shake of the head. "Today was too tiring and I am not as young as I used to be."

That drew a wry smile onto Fenris' face. He gathered up his backpack, double checking that all his belongings were inside. "You are not that old, Sebastian."

"But I am older than you and most of the cast." That was true. Then again, Fenris was pretty sure there wasn’t a single cast member above thirty-five. "Perhaps another day. But do enjoy yourself. Is your friend going to be there?" They both knew who Sebastian meant but Fenris, annoyed, decided to pretend otherwise.

"Krem and Isabela will both be there. This may surprise you, Sebastian, but you are not my only friend." A few years ago, Sebastian was the only person Fenris really knew. But a lot had changed and though they remained close, they both also knew it was good for Fenris to get out more.

"I meant the star of the show and the item of your affection," Sebastian replied with a small smile, turning in his chair to face Fenris.

"Hmph. Why does if feel as if everyone knows my emotions except for one person?"

"Probably because James is oblivious as a stick," Isabela said as she stuck her head into the booth window. Sebastian spun in his chair as he swore. Fenris gave her a very unimpressed look. "You were taking too long, I wanted to see if you had snuck off without saying goodbye."

"You know you are not supposed to do that," Sebastian chided her. It wasn't like the electricians had clambered into the booth through the window on more than one occasion. You'd think having three people with the key to a room would mean there would always be at least one key available, but you'd be wrong.

Fenris maintained that he'd be a better keeper of the electrician key, but Anders unfortunately won that argument by having been at the theater longer. Sebastian also refused to make another copy for him, citing the fact that Josephine would have his head if she found out. Aveline had the third key and insisted that she have it all the time. Fenris supposed that it made sense as stage manager, but it was still annoying.

"Are you ready to go?" Isabela asked, pouting at the two men. "Oh, Sebastian, you're invited if you want. You don’t even need to drink. I’m sure someone will need a driver.” 

“That is what Lyft is for,” Sebastian replied. “I, unfortunately, have other duties besides designated driver. Mainly my laundry, which is currently accumulating in its basket.” He stood and slung his messenger bag over one shoulder. “It was a good day of work, Aveline. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” She grunted at him, which was about the most polite Aveline could probably sum up at that moment. 

Once Fenris had gathered his things and checked that nothing was out of place in the booth, he met Isabela at the front of the theater. She beamed at him and thrust her phone in his face. It took him a moment to realize that he was looking at a picture of James Hawke — the man’s face was covered by the skull emoji. There was a caption, but the text was too small and Isabela’s hand wasn’t steady enough for Fenris to make it out. 

“Why are you showing this to me?” He asked. Isabela pouted, sticking her bottom lip out and furrowing her eyebrows. “I cannot read the caption.” 

“Oh!” She cheered instantly and turned her phone back around. “Feeling dead after tech. The cute guy better be there tonight.” 

Almost instantly Fenris blushed, feeling the heat pool in his ears. He scowled, ducking his head so his wispy bangs covered part of his face. It might have worked, too, if he hadn’t known Isabela for years and if she hadn’t already known all of his tricks. She let out a sharp laugh, wrapping an arm around him and leading him to the front of the theater.

“Come on, Fenris, it’s going to be great! You two are going to have drinks, kiss, and fall in love.” 

“I regret telling you _anything_. Damn you and martini Mondays,” Fenris cursed, weakly pushing her away. It was clear he didn’t care enough to actually dislodge her — which he could do with no hands and without breaking a sweat — so Isabela didn’t move. She only laughed more and squeezed him closer. 

“Aw, it’s great. When else are you going to work with a legendary star?” She gestured to herself. “Present company excluded of course. Really, it must be fate that you told me about your little crush and then we both got hired onto this show!” 

“Vishante kaffas.” 

“You’ve been listening to Dorian too much. You never used to say that,” Isabela pointed out. In response, Fenris flipped her off. She laughed again, casually lifting her phone up to take a photo. Fenris’s reflexes were just a hair too slow getting him out of the frame and Isabela cheered as she released him and went to send the snap. 

“Who are you sending that to?” Fenris asked, mentally looking over himself. His hair was unruly from his stupid tic of shaking his head, his clothes were sweaty and dirty, and he definitely was starting to get bags under his eyes from not sleeping enough.

Isabela gave him a look and Fenris instantly felt stupid for even asking. 

“Come on, I parked over here. We don’t want to keep your Champion waiting—” 

“If you call him that, I will strangle you,” Fenris mumbled, even though there was no heat behind his words. He fell in beside Isabela, letting her chatter away even as his stomach worked itself into knots. There was no way that getting drinks with James Hawke, attractive star and activist far out of Fenris’s league, was a good idea.

Especially not with the huge crush Fenris had on him. 

#

The bar was loud, busy, and stuffy and all three of those problems could be attributed to the crowd gathered around an arm-wrestling competition. Fenris and Isabela made their way in right as a great cheer exploded, some people shaking their heads and others grinning ear-to-ear. In the center of it all was a Qunari, large even for his race, horns sticking out from either side of his head. He flexed and called out to his second, words caught up in the chatter of the rest of the bar and disappearing before Fenris could catch them. 

“Yeah, yeah, we all know your ego is already close to exploding. Just don’t break anything. If Stitches has to patch you up before this build is over, I’m not responsible for what happens next. Oh, Fenris, Isabela. I’m glad you two could make it.” Krem gave his friends a grin, turning away from chiding his boss. His face was flushed — he, like most of the other people in the bar, had already been drinking. “Now we can really celebrate day one, right Bela?” 

“You know me so well. What’s the special?” Isabela asked, not even glancing at the bar as she settled in at Fenris’s side. 

Fenris found himself hemmed in, Krem on one side and Isabela on the other. They chatted around him, used to Fenris only chiming in when he felt like he had something to contribute. Which, considering how much his friends could talk, wasn’t very often. Behind him, people kept walking to and from their table and in front of him was the Iron Bull. Unsurprisingly, empty drinks were scattered across Bull’s table and his jacket was slung over his chair. In a tank top, his biceps were just about the size of Fenris’s entire torso. 

It had been awhile since Fenris was truly concerned about his masculinity, and this wasn’t the first time he had been drinking with Bull and his Chargers, but it took a special kind of person to get used to Bull’s physical presence. Still, Fenris got along well with the Chargers and he was glad he got to work with them on the show.

“Is the rest of the cast here yet?” Isabela asked. 

“I think some of them are. Pavus and de Fer are drinking wine like civilized people, as if we haven't seen both of them outdrink everyone in a ten mile radius. Haven’t seen the Hawke brothers yet.” Krem nudged Fenris. “I know that’s who you’re looking for—” 

Fenris flipped him off.

“He said he would be here,” Isabela said. She frowned, pulling her phone out and scrolling through texts. “I’ll get us drinks. Krem, do you—”

“Nah, the Chief treats us after the first day of tech. But another day!” Krem had to shout to be heard over the noise, despite the three of them being so close together. “Get Fenris something strong. If he gets anymore tense we’re going to have to pry him away from us to get him to talk to — ow!” Krem rubbed his side as Fenris gave him an innocent look.

“Were you saying something?” He asked. 

“James is just running late! Apparently Carver wanted to change. Something about a cute costume designer?” Isabela frowned. “Well you aren't doing costumes, so I don't know who that would be, Krem.” 

“Fuck off and get drinks,” Krem told her, laughing. Isabela rolled her eyes, kissed Fenris on the cheek, and made her way through the crowd. Fenris sighed. He loved his friends, really, but sometimes he wondered if they were sent to Thedas to test him. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts as the Iron Bull slid back in his chair, Fenris and the other two scooting back to give him enough space. Bull cracked his knuckles and announced that he was getting another round, much to the enjoyment of his Chargers. He turned around and grinned at Fenris, patting him on the back. 

“Hey, Fenris. Joining us for drinks?” Bull asked. 

“Isabela is getting us some,” Fenris replied, nodding towards the overcrowded bar where Isabela was unsuccessfully trying to get the bartender’s attention. Now that his eyes were accustomed to the dim light, Fenris could see other members of the cast and crew. Zevran was chatting with Alistair and Sera was attempting to impress a small group by balancing shot glasses on each other. Leliana and Josephine — two women Fenris had never met personally, but recognized from seeing them around in rehearsal — were talking to Cullen. There were only a few drinks in front of them but already Cullen looked flushed, like he had drunk an entire bar before arriving. 

It was strange, really, to be so comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. There were still strangers in the bar, but for the most part Fenris recognized everyone from _Champion_ and he felt at ease. The crowd was almost comforting in its anonymity and he knew that there were at least half a dozen people who would kill for him. 

“Oh, Fenris! Good news: I have drinks,” Isabela said, setting the bottles down. “Better news: look who just arrived!” 

Or kill him. That was a distinct possibility. 

Fenris forced himself to restrict his ire to his eyes only, hoping Isabela knew that she was dead to him with a look. She just grinned, gesturing to James Hawke who looked much taller and more handsome up close. He was wearing a dark blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, shoulders filling it out quite nicely. His hair was pulled back in a small ponytail, much different than the shaggy look the show had him in. Without the fake beard he looked younger, happier. 

He looked a lot less like a desperate refugee in the middle of one of the most dangerous cities to ever exist. Needless to say, Fenris liked it. 

He also was staring and Fenris coughed and shook his head, as if that could hide the flush on his cheeks or conceal the shit-eating grin on Isabela’s face. 

“Have you two officially met? I know you saw him earlier today, James, but this is—”

“Fenris. I — yeah. I think we've talked.” James seemed every bit as uncomfortable as Fenris was, which was the only good part about this. They hadn't talked at all before the awkward time during rehearsal that day, but Fenris didn't feel like bringing that up.

“So, James, how did you think rehearsal went today?” Isabela asked her friend. The two began talking about how difficult the choreography for the big song before intermission was, how Varric needed to be strung up and murdered for including so many fight scenes, and how the costume department was going to cry if Zevran ripped another pair of leather pants. 

“In his defense, it’s not like there’s much room for him to move in them,” James conceded with a half-shrug.

“What about your costume? They still haven’t put you in your final armor yet,” Isabela said. “Are there any updates on that? They’ve had mine done for weeks now. It looks stunning, by the way. They really outdid themselves on the leatherwork for this show. Well, except for Zevran’s pants.” The two of them laughed. 

Fenris struggled to recall if he had seen the final design for James’s costume. He didn’t really go to the costume department for anything, but Krem sometimes stopped by and liked to tell Fenris all the things he would have done differently. For example, most of the fur in the show was fake because that was cheaper and actually moral, but the costume department was essentially using hot glue to keep it all on. 

There was a lot of stunning armor, though — quite literally since the plastic reflected back the lights and threw everything off. Fenris had seen more than one armor set get covered in a more matte finish now. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” Krem asked, breaking Fenris out of his thoughts. He realized that Krem was talking to James, who was chatting with Isabela about how his fake beard was _definitely_ ridiculous and how Varric was clearly compensating for his own lack of facial hair. 

“Huh? Oh, uh, I technically came here to drink with my brother but…” James looked around for the aforementioned sibling. Carver seemed to be trapped in a corner by the costume designer, Merrill. By the look on his face, it didn't seem like he was enjoying the conversation very much. “I think he's good.” 

“Have a seat,” Isabela insisted. She stepped to the side so that the free seat was between her and Fenris. James blushed, red tinting his cheeks. “I’ll grab you something. What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever’s on tap, I’m not picky,” James told her. He gingerly sat next to Fenris. There wasn’t a lot of space, so their elbows brushed. Fenris was embarrassed at the shock that went through him, a bit of electric energy singing through his every nerve. If James felt it, he didn’t say anything. 

“Hey, I’m Krem. Work on the set with Iron Bull’s crew.” Krem stuck a hand out, reaching across Fenris. 

“Nice to meet you,” James said, shaking his hand. “I feel like we’ve met before? Or you’ve just got a familiar face.” 

Krem laughed. “Thanks, it’s a good face. But good memory — I saw you speak at the LGBTQ Center’s gala last year. Bull couldn’t make it so I went instead.”

“Oh! Yeah, that.” James laughed nervously. “Hopefully my speech was good. All I can remember right now is the choreography and lyrics in this musical — I’ve been doing this for almost fifteen years professionally and I’ve never been in something this complicated before.” 

“Well, that’s why we leave the singing and dancing to you professionals.” Krem grinned before nudging Fenris with his shoulder. “Told you that you should have gone to the gala with me. Coulda been my plus one.” 

James seemed to go pale, or at least as pale as he could with his deep brown skin. “Are you two—”

Krem laughed. Even Fenris managed a chuckle. 

“No,” Fenris said, dislodging his tongue from where it lay like a lead bar in his mouth. “Krem wishes that he could date me, but no.” 

“Ha, I think that you’re the one pining over me. I’ve offered to add you to my harem, but for some reason Fenris doesn’t like the idea of sharing,” Krem joked. In a more serious tone, he explained, “I’m dating someone else. Besides, I don’t think the world is ready for a power couple like us.” He gestured between himself and Fenris. 

A loud snort escaped Fenris. He refused to acknowledge that James looked relieved. 

“That’s nice,” James said weakly. 

“Here you go,” Isabela announced, setting a beer in front of James. “What are you boys talking about?”

“Relationships,” Fenris said.

“Setting up Fenris,” Krem said simultaneously. Fenris glared at him. Isabela snorted. It was a dignified snort, the way only she could manage. 

“Is Cullen really going to arm wrestle Bull?” Fenris exclaimed, thankful for the distraction. The entire half of the table looked across to where Bull and Cullen were sizing each other up. It was almost comical — Cullen was a large man, but Bull dwarfed men. 

Krem immediately started calling out half-encouragement, half-criticism to Bull. Isabela wolf-whistled when Cullen flexed, making the blond flustered as he tried to see who the source was. James leaned back in his seat, quietly nursing his beer. 

“Not interested in this display of manliness?” Fenris asked dryly. 

“I spend most of my life proving my manliness. I don’t do it for fun,” James replied curtly. 

Fenris hesitated, eyes glancing back and forth. No one was looking at them. Even Isabela and Krem were focused on the spectacle in front of them. “I understand,” he said softly. 

James gave him a startled glance, eyes widening a little. Fenris quickly took a drink out of his beer. It burnt a little on the way down but it had a crisp taste — Isabela had picked well. He couldn’t meet James’ eyes. Somehow, despite the commotion happening around them, it felt almost quiet. A tentative silence between them, caused by only a few words at the right time. 

After a tense moment, Iron Bull slammed Cullen’s hand to the table and a huge cheer erupted. Krem actually got to his feet, knocking over his beer and spilling it all over the table. Fenris swore, scrambling to get up so that he could avoid having to smell like beer anymore than he already did. 

He found himself pushed against James, who also was standing and trying to find napkins. 

“Sorry—”

“It’s okay, did you—” 

“No, I’m fine,” Fenris stammered, flushed from the heat in the room and the warm presence of James against his back. _Focus. Don’t be an idiot._ “Dammit, Krem,” he said, hoping to get some help getting James’ attention away from him. Isabela, as she was apt to do whenever they went drinking with friends, had disappeared.

“What? Oh, sorry,” Krem apologized. “Are there — why are there no napkins? I’ll go ask the bartender.” He didn’t even hesitate before walking off. Fenris swore again, shaking his head. Everything was starting to get blurry and he could feel his chest constrict. He was having an anxiety attack, he realized — it was too loud and too warm and much. 

He could feel James breathing, could practically hear his heart beating — except no, that was Fenris’s heart and it was beating loud and clear. The noise pounded in his ears and he reached up to cup them, trying futility to block out the noise. His sleeves, which had holes for his thumbs to hook through the fabric so they covered the vast majority of his arms, sagged a little. His fingers tangled into his messy hair even as he looked around the bar for an exit. 

James sucked in a breath, his hands hovering near Fenris’ sides but not quite touching him. “Are you all right?” James asked. Fenris nodded. “You look warm. Do you want to step outside?” 

Again, Fenris nodded. James took the lead, gently taking Fenris’ hand before steering the two of them through the crowd. The two of them ended up outside the bar, the sound still bleeding out into the otherwise semi-quiet night, but it was nicer out. There was a crisp chill to the air and Fenris could breathe. 

He took a moment to recover before looking warrily at James. “You do not have to wait out here with me,” he said.

James shrugged. “If it’s all the same to you, I like it out here more.” 

Fenris didn’t have an answer to that. 

The two of them stood in silence together. A few cars drove by, but the bar they picked was in a relatively out of the way area. It was late enough that the city noise itself had died down as well, though in the distance a police siren could be heard. The stars were out, twinkling the best they could through cloud and smog cover. 

The city was beautiful at night, Fenris thought. Maybe not the same way a mountain stood tall or a forest grew deep, but the city had its own special touches. 

“Do you — Can I — Would you—” James stopped. He let out a heavy sigh. “I’m trying to ask if we can exchange numbers.”

“I can make it home safe,” Fenris said. “Though I appreciate your concern.” 

“No, I — I figured as much. I wanted to — so maybe — maybe we could coffee sometime?” For someone who spoke for a living, he wasn’t eloquent, Fenris thought. Not like all actors were smooth and suave, but James wasn’t a normal actor. He was an ambassador for civil rights, he was an icon for young trans and bisexual kids, he was the first transgender man to play a main character in a hit musical — he should be confident and maybe even cocky. 

Fenris liked that he wasn’t. James was a regular man with regular thoughts and hopes and dreams. 

“I—”

The door to the bar slammed open and Isabela came rushing out. She pulled Fenris into a hug, squeezing him tightly despite his protests. She was babbling about how sorry she was that he had been panicking, how she was so distracted and that it wouldn’t happen again. She kept promising that she’d stop accidentally abandoning Fenris at bars. 

By the time she had calmed down — Isabela was an amazing friend and truly could hold her alcohol, except if it was shitty beer then she got very emotional — Fenris couldn’t see James anywhere.

“Oh, James? The Hawke brothers took off. Carver threw up in the bathroom,” Krem said when they went back inside. Fenris decided it was for the best. “Also, you’re my witness — Bull and I bet twenty that he can’t get Pavus to sleep with him by the end of tech week.”

Fenris snorted and rolled his eyes. “Pavus is too high and mighty to even look at one of us,” he said. It was easy to fall into the comforting familiarity of friendly teasing and banter. It was all he needed in his life and he was fully content with just this. Anything else was dangerous. Anything else was unnecessary. 

#

When Fenris got home, there was a loud _meow_ as a furball launched himself at Fenris’ feet. Smiling despite his exhaustion, Fenris knelt down and pulled his cat into his arms. Felis, who was a street cat in all but the most loose definition, yowled and pushed his head against Fenris’ chest but didn’t bite or scratch him. 

“Ridiculum pusus,” Fenris murmured, slipping into Tevene. Felis continued to put up meager protest as Fenris carried him into the kitchen. Felis had knocked over his water bowl so there was a small puddle on the tile. The towel specifically for cleaning up this spill hung over a nearby pantry knob. Fenris adjusted how he held Felis so he could lean down and clean the spill up. 

Felis had stopped making noise, instead falling into his silent sulking as if he didn’t cry louder when Fenris didn’t pick him up. At least he wasn’t moving around as much, so Fenris could quickly clean the water up and then refill the bowl. 

“You need a new one,” Fenris said. “One that you can’t knock over when you’re mad.” He pressed a kiss to Felis’ head. The patchy fur tickled Fenris’ nose. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Nolo eam iterum.” 

Checking that Felis still had plenty of food, Fenris headed into the bedroom. His apartment really only had two rooms. There was a tiny kitchen with a card table for his dining room which was only separated from the entryway with a mockery of a living room by a half wall. Then there was an open archway to his bedroom. The only real door was on his closet and his bathroom.

The entire apartment smelled like cat. Fenris didn’t mind, but Isabela continually begged him to keep a window open. He argued that Felis could get out. Isabela pointed out that Felis had been a stray in the first place and that he had picked Fenris just as much as Fenris had picked him. Still, the windows stayed shut. 

In the bedroom, Fenris deposited his cat onto his twin sized bed and proceeded to undress. He didn’t have the energy for a shower, but he knew he’d be even more gross tomorrow without it so he resolved to make it quick. By the time he got out of the shower, he was ready to pass out but he couldn’t help but notice that his phone had a new message. Some part of him grew excited, hopeful even, but it was just Isabela making sure he got home safe.

He appreciated her friendship, but they also were due for another conversation about her bar etiquette. Fenris replied back with a picture of Felis, who was licking himself, and then plugged his phone in to charge. He found himself thinking that it was good that he didn’t have James’ number, that they couldn’t text one another. Surely James had a nice home, a place with new furniture and an open floor plan and a bathtub that didn’t have a brown, rust hue no matter how hard one scrubbed. 

No, it was for the better that Fenris didn’t try to get closer to James. They just were co-workers. They wouldn’t ever see each other once this was all done. 

Felis, as if sensing the unease hanging around Fenris, slept on his stomach that night.

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally started work on this back in 2017 but between school and general life madness, it sat in my Google drive completely untouched. I've got basically none of it written but I have it mostly plotted out (okay, like half) so there's that at least.
> 
> I do have a background in theater - that's what my degree is in - and I've done theater lighting professionally which is where a lot of the terminology comes from. However, you don't need to know any of it to understand the fic. Still, if anything is particularly confusing let me know.
> 
> James is my custom Hawke. You'll get to know him as the story progresses and I hope you like him!
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy the fic and be sure to leave a comment below :)


End file.
